


One More Thing

by downlookingup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodily Fluids, Crack, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 20:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9287888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downlookingup/pseuds/downlookingup
Summary: “In the corner by the window Lem and Harwin sat talking to red-haired Tansy in low voices. '...spent the night in Jaime's cell,' she heard the woman say. 'Her and this other wench, the one who slew Renly. All three o' them together, and come the morn Lady Catelyn cut him loose for love.'" —A Storm of Swords, Arya VCatelyn's about to release Jaime at the end of A Clash of Kings, but first...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MotherofFirkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherofFirkins/gifts).



> So, Chicky and Guile and I got to talking on Twitter about how hot Jaime probably was in the Whispering Wood, and how it was no wonder that Catelyn let him go. And then I remembered that crazy rumor from ASOS, and one thing led to another, and here we are. 
> 
> It's meant to fit in squarely between Clash and Storm, so it's not so much canon divergence as a possible deleted scene, I guess (if you accept that these three characters immediately forgot about the hot sex they just had LOL).

“He was going to marry my sister.”

Lady Catelyn stood outside the Kingslayer’s cell with the oil lamp raised high. The light cast her face into shadow, her cheekbones and nose razor-sharp. Her auburn hair was fiery orange, and Brienne was entranced. Her father had a lady with red hair once, and Brienne remembered watching the woman—her name long since lost to the tide of all the others that came after her—from across the great table during supper, fascinated by the rosy tone of her creamy skin and the way her long red braid caught the light. Brienne always thought that woman was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen, but looking at Lady Catelyn now, she knew that was no longer true.

“He came to Riverrun when I was seventeen,” she said, “before he was even knighted. He spent a fortnight with us and never even spoke to Lysa. Or to me. I thought he hated us. Then one night, he went into my chambers and he…”

She caught herself and turned to Brienne, color high in her cheeks. Brienne felt her face flush as well, though she was sure it wasn’t half as comely.

“Brienne, see that I am not disturbed,” she said, and went inside the cell.

Through the grate on the door, Brienne heard everything her lady and the Kingslayer spoke of. About his sister and the child he’d pushed out a window, about Lord Stark’s father and brother. About King Aerys. Aerys had been a madman, to be sure, but the Kingsguard vows were sacred, and the Kingslayer had broken them time and time again. It revolted her.

Catelyn’s strong voice came from within. “Brienne.”

Brienne pushed the door open. She saw the Kingslayer for the first time then. He was on the floor, his arms and legs fettered to the stone wall. He was filthy, his matted blond hair a wild tangle like an old lion’s mane, but despite having spent a year in a dungeon, he was still beautiful. She watched his green eyes roam over her body, and felt something stir in her stomach. No one who saw her for the first time had ever looked at her with anything other than pity or disgust. Jaime Lannister’s gaze was simply… curious.

“Give me your sword.” Catelyn held out her hand.

Jaime Lannister laughed. “How quickly you’ve recovered from widowhood,” he drawled. “This one looks more like Brandon than Ned ever did, but what’s her cock like?”

“Be quiet!” Lady Catelyn hissed. “Brienne, the sword.”

“I knew a Bryen once. Are you sure that’s not her name?”

Brienne scowled and slid Renly’s longsword from its scabbard, the metallic scrape filling her ears. She put the hilt in Lady Catelyn’s hand, and Lady Catelyn laid the point of it against the Kingslayer’s heart. Brienne watched in silence as Catelyn made the Kingslayer swear to put down arms against Tullys and Starks, and return her daughters safely to her.

Jaime Lannister cleared his throat, suddenly serious. “I swear it on Cersei’s life. What bloody choice do I have?”

Catelyn handed the sword back to Brienne, who took it and returned it to the scabbard.

“I need one more thing from you,” Catelyn said.

“Anything, my lady.” Brienne couldn’t tell if he was japing.

“Twenty years ago, in Riverrun. Do you remember?”

The Kingslayer’s eyes darkened. Brienne had little experience with carnal matters—only her clumsy, self-inflicted fumbles in the dark and the occasional glimpse of a soldier with a camp follower—but she recognized the raw hunger in his eyes as he watched Lady Catelyn. “Undo these fetters, Cat, and I’ll show you how well I remember.”

“Get the keys from the gaoler, Brienne.” This was said with her back to Brienne.

Brienne hesitated. She couldn’t leave her alone with the Kingslayer. “My lady— “

“Do as I say, Brienne.” Her voice was firm and brooked no argument. Brienne did as she was told.

Upon her return, she found Lady Catelyn on her knees before the Kingslayer, the two locked in a lip-bruising kiss. Brienne must have made a sound, a gasp of surprise at finding them so, because Catelyn extricated herself from the Kingslayer’s embrace and turned to her.

“Brienne, close the door and come here.”

She pushed the door closed and stepped closer, her face burning. How had this turned from releasing the Kingslayer to _this?_

Catelyn took the keys and unlocked the shackles around the Kingslayer’s wrists and ankles. He rotated his right wrist, testing the movement. When he reached out to Lady Catelyn, Brienne almost brought her sword out, but he simply seized her neck and pulled her in for another kiss. Their moans bounced off the stone walls of the cell, and Brienne sent a prayer to the gods, thanking them for the gaoler’s drunkenness. If King Robb ever heard of this, she was sure it would cost them all their heads.

And then Lady Catelyn was pushing the rags from his shoulders, exposing the Kingslayer’s broad torso, pale after so long without seeing the sun, but strong nonetheless. The golden hairs on his chest glinted in the lamplight, and Brienne felt that stirring again, lower in her belly.

The sensation intensified when Catelyn’s hands dropped from his shoulders to his waist, untying the rotting laces that held his breeches up. She slid her hand inside and pulled out his member, half-hard already. Catelyn stroked it slowly, while their tongues swirled together lewdly.

Brienne couldn’t tear her eyes away. _His cock is beautiful_. Just thinking the word made her blush. She recalled snippets of conversation she had overheard, men calling their appendages “spears” or “swords”, women who called them “rods” or “poles” or “pokers”. But this one was a cock, thick and long, and unlike anything else. She wondered what it would feel like in the palm of her hand, and felt a new wave of feeling deep inside her, accompanied by a familiar flood of wetness in her smallclothes. She pressed her thighs together, trying to relieve the pressure.

Jaime Lannister was fumbling at Lady Catelyn’s back now, pulling on the laces of her gown until it fell away from her like a second skin to reveal the pale expanse of her back. Jaime tugged on the sleeves until her chest was exposed and he latched onto one of her heavy breasts, sucking on the dark nipple, hard enough to bruise. It was clear she had been a mother several times over, from the dark stripes marking the flesh of her soft stomach and her breasts, but there was something beautiful about the marks. _Children are a battle of a different sort_ , Lady Catelyn had said, and these were her scars.

Catelyn kicked her gown away and straddled Jaime’s hips, and they both went very still. The shadows impeded Brienne’s view, but she knew Lady Catelyn was taking him inside her. Brienne had seen couples rutting before, but never so closely. Their breaths stuttered as Catelyn lowered herself onto the Kingslayer’s lap until she’d gone as far down as she could go, and then they began rocking together, undulating together in a strange, hypnotic dance.

“Gods, Cat,” Jaime grunted, arching his head up to take her breast in his mouth again, while Catelyn moved over him, her hips crashing down to meet his almost violently. A soft keening came from her mouth, and a wet sound filled the cell.

Brienne couldn’t take it anymore. Her core throbbed, needing to be touched. She put her sword belt down on the ground, leaned against the wall, and slid her hand down her breeches. At the first slide of her fingers against her swollen nub, she drew in a sharp breath between her teeth. She had never been so wet before. Her left hand slid under her tunic and tweaked her nipple, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through her whole body.

And all along she looked.

Jaime had braced his feet flat on the ground and was meeting Catelyn thrust for thrust. The sound of flesh hitting flesh made Brienne’s hand go faster. She tried to imagine it was Renly touching her, but she only saw Jaime Lannister and Catelyn Stark, fucking on a dirty stone floor in a dark dungeon. Brienne pushed two fingers inside her wetness and sought out the spot that made her see stars.

She almost didn’t hear Lady Catelyn when she spoke.

“Come closer, Brienne.”

Brienne’s hand froze inside her smallclothes. She’d closed her eyes without knowing it, and she opened them to see Catelyn and Jaime looking at her, unmoving.

“His tongue is good for more than throwing barbs,” Catelyn said. “Wouldn’t you like to taste her, Ser?”

Jaime smirked, his eyes fixed on Brienne. “I’d love to, my lady. Take off your clothes, Brienne.”

Hearing him say her name sent a thrill through her. _This is madness_ , Brienne thought. _Absolute, utter, wonderful madness._ Her right hand still wet with her own juices, she pushed down her breeches, kicked off her boots, and pulled off her tunic. The cell was colder than she’d thought, and she stood there trembling, whether of cold or fear or excitement, she didn’t know.

“Seven hells,” Jaime grunted. He gave a slow thrust into Catelyn, his eyes never leaving Brienne.

“Brienne, you’re splendid,” Lady Catelyn said.

“Come here, girl,” the Kingslayer said.

Brienne stepped forward until she could see the glint of arousal in his green eyes. What was she supposed to do now?

It was like he read her mind. “Kneel over my head,” he said.

She was conscious of the way she exposed herself as she widened her stance over him and kneeled, facing Lady Catelyn. She was too big and heavy and lumbering, she would crush his head like a grape. But when she was settled over him, her hands on his chest helping her keep her balance, he grabbed hold of her thighs and pulled her down until her core met his face.

When his tongue slid out and brushed against her nub, she yelped and looked up to meet Lady Catelyn’s eyes. Catelyn smiled at her and leaned forward until their lips met. Absurdly, it took Brienne by surprise, even as she was naked and straddling the Kingslayer’s face. She’d only been kissed once, by Owen Inchfield in Bitterbridge, as part of a cruel jest. It had been an unwelcome kiss, a slobbering, disgusting thing. This was nothing like it. Lady Catelyn slid her fingers into Brienne’s hair and sucked Brienne’s lower lip into her mouth, nibbling on the soft flesh until Brienne opened her mouth and let her tongue inside.

“Cat, you were right,” came Jaime’s voice from beneath. “Her cunt tastes like all of the seven heavens.”

Catelyn pulled away. “I’d love to try some time,” she said, before claiming Brienne’s mouth again.

And then the three of them were moving as one. Catelyn began rocking on Jaime’s lap again, making the same damp, slapping sound. Brienne felt Jaime’s mouth against her. He licked her wetness as though he wanted to drink her up, laving her tender inner folds, thrusting his tongue inside her opening, and Brienne couldn’t hold back the moans sprouting from her mouth. She’d always been quiet when pleasuring herself—there had always been the threat of someone listening, like her father or her septa or the men in Renly’s camp—but now she allowed herself the luxury of being loud, of grunting when Catelyn twisted her nipples while kissing down her throat or whimpering when Jaime changed the angle to suck hard on her nub. She rocked her hips against Jaime’s face, relishing in the almost-painful scrape of his beard against her inner thighs. She was sure she would feel that later, and she was almost looking forward to having a reminder of what they’d done.

Catelyn licked down Brienne’s chest until she reached her breast and sucked Brienne’s hard nipple into her mouth. Brienne moaned and grabbed a fistful of Catelyn’s lovely red hair, holding her close to her chest. Brienne knew her breasts were hardly impressive, little more than a handful, but they were incredibly sensitive. If she didn’t bind her breasts under her armor, she would find a mess in her smallclothes after a day of riding.

 _You’re doing a different sort of riding now_ , she thought wickedly, swaying over Jaime’s tongue. She was afraid of smothering him, but whenever she tried to take some weight from him, he tightened his grip on her thighs and pulled her back down.

At the same time as Catelyn switched from her right breast to her left one, Brienne felt two of Jaime’s fingers slide into her, and she gasped. He thrust his fingers into her relentlessly, in time with the flicks of his tongue against her nub, and Catelyn was biting one nipple while pinching the other one almost painfully. Brienne groaned loudly, feeling her peak nearing. Just a little bit more…

Jaime slid a third finger into her, his hand thrusting against her, hard enough to jolt her body, and when she felt his fingertips brush against _that spot_ , the tension building inside her began to break, sliding up her toes, her legs, tingling, burning, setting her vision alight. She shattered into pieces, quivering against Jaime and Catelyn’s mouths, moaning loud enough that she wouldn’t have been surprised to wake all of Riverrun.

And then Catelyn was peaking too, releasing Brienne’s breast with a pop to scream into her chest, her hips a blur against Jaime’s. She lifted her hips away from Jaime and pulled his cock from inside her, and it fell against his belly, twitching in the lamplight, the balls beneath convulsing and spilling milky seed onto his skin.

Brienne slumped over to the side, her bones finally giving up, and Catelyn joined her, her head resting against Brienne’s rapidly rising chest. For a moment, Brienne could only hear their breaths and the rumble of the Tumblestone behind the walls. The longer she lied there, the more horrified she became by what had just happened. She’d let the Kingslayer defile her. The Lord’s Kiss, she’d heard soldiers call it, but this was no lord; this was an oathbreaker, a murderer. If he was a monster, what did that make her? Could she even call herself the Maid of Tarth anymore?

She got to her feet, the unfamiliar ache between her legs taking her by surprise, and got dressed, her back to Lady Catelyn and the Kingslayer. Once she’d buckled her sword belt around her waist, she ran her fingers through her messy hair and turned around. They were still on the floor, staring at her with what seemed like confusion. The Kingslayer’s beard shone with wetness. _Mine_ , Brienne realized, embarrassed. He would smell her for days.

Brienne’s face burned. “Whenever you’re ready, my lady. I’ll be outside.”

She pulled the door open and stepped out into the corridor.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
